Box of Shocks Read Online Free PDF Page A

into the yard would not be a good idea. It’s either wear the flowered dress or walk home in my underwear.
    The dress is downright baggy, and I have to hold it up with my right hand, otherwise it will fall to the ground.
    For obvious reasons, I avoid walking along the main streets. Instead, I try to cut through back alleys, across backyards and through a few vacant lots. I finally reach our back fence, slip through the gate and run to the back door. Luckily, Mom and Dad aren’t home yet. I race up the stairs and into my room.
    I made it!
    And I’m pretty sure no one saw me.
    Now that I’m safely in my room, I open my hand and take a close look at the piece of chewed-up spike. I have to say, it’s pretty amazing—teeth marks all up and down the spike, with one of the ends chewed right off.
    Before my parents get home, I’ve got to hide the spike in my Box of Shocks. I head to my closet and take the box from its hiding place. When I open the lid, there’s the piece of Halloween candy from the Milburn house. I remember the thrill of that Halloween night as if it was yesterday.
    And now, I’ve got something else. Not only have I survived trick-or-treating at some quasi-zombie-monster-thingy’s house, I’ve escaped the deadly teeth of the most vicious bulldog-rottweiler-wolf-rhino-veloci-raptor beast in the entire city—probably the entire world. I place the spike beside the candy and think, Only two things in my Box of Shocks and already my collection is amazing!
    As I’m sliding the box back into its hiding place, I hear the front door open. “Oliver! I’m home!” Mom calls. “How was your piano lesson?”
    I head out of my bedroom and am about to start down the stairs when I realize I’m still wearing the flowered dress. Whirling around, I sprint back to my room before she sees me. I’m pretty good at lying, but trying to explain why I’m wearing an old lady’s dress might be impossible, even for me.

Four
    I t’s not easy adding to my Box of Shocks. Mom and Dad keep track of where I am and what I’m doing pretty much every minute of every day. Finding opportunities to do crazy stunts and collect new shocks for my box is really tough: it’s December before I get my next chance.
    Right before Christmas every year, our family has this tradition of going on a sleigh ride with my aunt, uncle and little cousins. We drive out to a nearby farm and get pulled around on a sleigh by some Clydesdales. After the sleigh ride, we have hot dogs and hot chocolate by a huge bonfire, and then Mom and Dad always sing a duet of “White Christmas.” Mom says it’s her favorite event of the Christmas season. I secretly kind of agree with her. But it gives me an idea.
    As everyone’s getting their boots and jackets on, I say, “I don’t feel so good. I don’t think I should go.”
    Mom feels my forehead. “You don’t seem to be running a temperature.”
    â€œIt’s not my head. It’s my…” I don’t say another word. I run off to the bathroom, slam the door and make some pretty impressive retching sounds.
    As I stagger out of the bathroom, Mom turns to Dad and says, “The rest of you can go ahead. I’ll stay behind with Oliver.”
    Oh, no! After my great acting job, my plan may have backfired! “You can’t miss the sleigh ride, Mom,” I say. “I’ll rest on the couch. There’s a World’s Deadliest Snakes marathon on TV . You go ahead, Mom. I know how much you love the sleigh ride.”
    I can see by the way Mom bites her lower lip that she’s torn between going and staying behind with me.
    â€œOllie will be fine staying by himself,” Dad says. “He can always call you on your cell phone if there’s a problem. And Grandpa Golley is close by. Right, Ollie?” I could swear he winks at me, which is totally weird.
    I want to jump up and